


Lower Body (Stay Hydrated Pt. 2)

by StrikeLikeACobraKai



Series: Working Up a Sweat [4]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: 1987ish, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Bobby pretty thirsty, Bodily Fluids, Don’t really need foreplay when you’re a fast learner, Excuse me I ordered PWP? What the fuck is this P doing on the side of my plate???? I said NO P, Fast learner, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Gyms, Learning on the job, M/M, No internalised biphobia in this series, POV Bobby, POV First Person, Showers, Smut, Sore knees, Sorryyyyy but enjoy cos incoming plot, Sweat, working out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27755974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/pseuds/StrikeLikeACobraKai
Summary: c. 1987.As much as he enjoyed that night, Bobby’s wondering how he fits into the whole thing.A visit to the gym with Johnny shows him that some things haven’t changed.(Inspired by every shirtless pic/gif from TKK, and in particular the shorts and lack of shirts at soccer tryouts)
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Johnny Lawrence, Dutch/Johnny Lawrence (mentioned), Johnny Lawrence/Dutch/Bobby Brown (mentioned)
Series: Working Up a Sweat [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018029
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	Lower Body (Stay Hydrated Pt. 2)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretSecret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretSecret/gifts).



> Do remember how I said in Part 3 they can’t all be that peaky, ok? This one’s from a simpler, more innocent time. But not like SUPER innocent :) And we’ll work our way back to the other haha.
> 
> So, this series has a plot… who knew, right?? Me, I knew. Hiding plot in smut? Don’t mind if I do. These lovable idiots/diamonds/trauma babies are not going to have this series end badly for anyone, that’s what I can promise. Feel free to pick and chose any of these stories in any order, if you want to, but you’re gonna get a wayyyyyyy better experience if you go on the journey of the series :) Your call.  
>   
> Thank you for the enthusiastic response to the last chapter, which made me scream loud enough that the cops came. TWICE. I appreciate you leaving your words for me to read and feel joy about, and please, please do that XD  
>   
> Dutch returns next chapter <3\. I feel it’s worth pointing out my approach with him here… I’m learning to explore different sides of his character, and what felt right at this time period, this context, was that his intense rage isn’t really around anymore: the influence that caused it is gone, the various threats to himself and to Johnny are gone, and yeah, this is just where I felt Dutch would go after that. He’s always had a lot of emotion, but it manifests differently now. I’m sure the rage would come back, if someone threatened someone (Johnny) he cared about, but Bobby isn’t a threat, in fact he shares the same protective feelings, so… yeah. You’re gonna get way more of a look into what Dutch has with Johnny in the next part, as will Bobby <3
> 
> If you want, you can visit my tumblr (same blog name as my user name), because it has a whole bunch of this ship, and I'd love to talk to you there or here about them XD I see those likes, and I appreciate them.

Johnny’s nearly there again, I can tell.

I decided to wait, this time, as an experiment, to see how long it took him to get horny for what we do, after that night at Dutch’s place. That was two Fridays ago, and it’s Tuesday now, so that makes a week and a half.

Less time, then. This is a good thing.

I don’t understand what we’re doing, in terms of what it means, if anything, to our friendship. So far it isn’t changing it, because Johnny seems to be either in fully switched off mode, or switched on, which is even _more_ fully, and it’s like two separate things, entirely: friends, or the other thing, which I don’t know the name of.

I think I’m okay with that. I mean I sure as hell wouldn’t want anything to get weird with my best friend, and it isn’t, so I must have the best of both worlds, I guess.

I really wish I knew what was up with him and Dutch, though. I can’t work out if they’re some kind of boyfriends. They _could_ be. I know Johnny wouldn’t give a fuck about what anyone would think about that, if he wanted it; he would just do it, and so would Dutch, and to hell with anyone else’s opinion.

But they can’t be together, like that, can they? Why would they want _me_ there?

And besides, they hadn’t even seen each other for ages, from what they both say, so I really don’t think they are. But there’s definitely _something._

They have something different, more than what I have with Johnny, since they started this a long time ago, and I didn’t. Johnny is closer to me as a friend, but he’s closer to Dutch with this.

I was definitely jealous in the heat of the moment, and if we do that again – which I’d be very surprised if we don’t – I might end up feeling that again. Jealous of both of them, happy to take either place, to have that connection they have. I wanted in to it.

But I think I’m okay with it now, out of the situation, because I know I have my two friends, and I know at some point I’m gonna get to do things, probably to both of them again, _unreal_ things. So it seems like I shouldn’t really find anything to complain about.

I was worried that maybe now that Dutch is back in the picture, Johnny either wouldn’t want me, or wouldn’t want me when it was just him and me. I wondered if maybe the only reason he ever did what he did in the shower on that first day was because he missed Dutch, and for whatever reason, didn’t have him, then. And I was there.

That thought bothers me, I admit. Because I’m pretty into the idea that Johnny wants me, when he's in the mood to. I nearly short-circuit when there’s that moment of us needing what we’re doing so badly, _needing_ each other, and I hate the thought of that being a lie, of me just being a back-up option.

But, Johnny starts to give me the look, when I’m on my way to spot him one day at the gym, and Dutch is nowhere to be seen.

When we’re through his set at two fifty, and after he’s looked up at me _that way_ through the whole thing, and my brain has turned into soft mush in my skull, because I just can’t look away from his eyes, with the relief that I haven’t _lost_ this, he’s lying there on the bench: recovering, panting, sweaty. His body fighting to get his breath back, his abs moving in an unsteady flutter. His thighs, so long, so strong, so planted to the ground and spread apart.

I take in all the details, gratefully thinking about how much I actually need this not to disappear from my life now that it’s here, details including how Johnny’s shorts are gathered up near a rounded out shape that my eyes are pinned to, because it looks larger than it does when he’s at rest there, and believe me, I know.

When I’ve packed up the weights, and come around to stand in front of him, and Johnny’s caught his air and sat up, flushed, warm, he brushes me, secretly, just for a moment, over my tracksuit, smirking when he feels my response to our workout. And, if I’m honest, to how he looks right now.

“Thought so,” he mutters, after he’s dropped his hand. “Those sweatpants don’t hide much, you know?”

I shrug, uncaring, staring down at him. My heart has started a race without my permission, but Johnny doesn’t have to know that.

I point my knee toward his shorts quite deliberately. “Like you can talk.”

I’m drawing out the fiercer version of the look in those blue eyes again, and I think I like it even more than the older kind, the first kind. It makes me want to _push_ Johnny, to see what he’ll do if I go too far. To find out what his boundaries are. His gaze takes in my upper body, and travels up my biceps, my shoulders, and I wonder if he’s noticed that over the past few months I’m slowly starting to achieve a bit more of that obvious definition that I’ve been trying for, getting the muscles I have underneath to be able to be seen better.

“You’d better hope we can find some privacy in there,” Johnny tells me.

I smile widely, trying not to make it too widely. I can’t _not_ feel joy, when that’s the go ahead I was hoping for today.

“Why’s that?”

There’s a smirk with a hard enough edge to it to make me realise Johnny’s feeling me push him.

“Because, I don’t think it will bother _me_ if there isn’t.”

He’s won, of course. A thrill goes through my body, a stabbing flare of excitement that hits me right in my groin. Not so much at the threat, because that really is alarming and I wouldn’t be able to go for it, but because it looks like the more I push, the hotter he gets for it.

I bite my lip, and Johnny’s eyes watch me do it, watch me draw it between my teeth and keep it there.

That’s when I decide that for once, I’m not even gonna finish my workout. Some things are just more important, and there are plenty of other days to work on my legs.

“How about we go find out right now, then?”

Johnny gives a confident, mocking smile. “You can’t even wait ‘til we’re done?”

I shake my head slightly, not minding if he knows I really can’t, showing it in my look, as long as it means we can _start._ I’m not sure what to think of how much I seem to need him.

I see his eyes flicker. “Alright. Let’s go help you with your problem.”

So now we’re doing me a favor, I think with a smile, but we’re packing up, we’re grabbing our gear, we’re moving, thank fuck.

I head in first to get us a cubicle, Johnny a minute later when the coast is clear enough. He locks the door behind himself, and steps up to me, maybe assuming I’ll move back, but I don’t.

“You wanna go in the shower?”

“Maybe later,” I reply. I let my eyes drop down to his shorts and then stare right at him when I say, “I was thinking you might sit down on this bench here, so I can get down on the floor in front of you.”

I _love_ that I can break through Johnny’s disguise of being unaffected, cool, enough to get him to smirk at me that dirtily, because it just turns me on like nothing else to know that he wants what I’m offering that much.

He’s already following my suggestion, after slipping his shorts down, sitting down with his knees apart, watching me expectantly.

He’s fully hard, _already,_ just at the thought, and there’s a pounding sound in my ears. My heart's beating pretty shakily too, because the moment has come and I’m nervous about doing this badly.

But I’ll never learn if I don’t start, and I _really_ want to start.

I don’t get it. How can a _dick_ be so hot to look at?

I have no fucking idea. It makes literally no sense, because I’ve had one for a long time, and yet when I see Johnny, or Dutch, I want to hit my head on things until I start bleeding.

He’s so hard, so thick, sticking up from his balls at an angle, it makes my eyes hurt, and I could stare at that all day.

“You change your mind?” he taunts, looking up at me.

I shake my head and kneel down on the hard tiles, moving in, sliding my hands up his warm, slick thighs and resting my arms there.

I swallow and look up at Johnny, feeling a little ashamed.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

But he smiles confidently and leans his head back on the cubicle wall. “I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

That hardly helps, so I take hold of his erection, because that much I am pretty good at, now, and give him a few strokes, just to get him going, get him to start enjoying it a little bit. Watching him like that relaxes me, even if it also makes me _real_ tense in a different way.

He sighs in relief, smiles down at me, and I decide I might use my other hand to hold his balls, figuring I can do quite a bit of touching to cover up for any lack of skill, while I learn how to use my mouth, and I’ll still easily be able to get him off.

Johnny likes what I’ve started, and there we go, _now_ I’m feeling okay about this.

I don’t know why, but the first time I touch my mouth to him, it feels like I should close my eyes.

I have one last look at how swollen his head is, at the shape of his slit, and the place where his dick rests deep in his hair. And then my eyes are shut, my lips open around him, just the tip, and my tongue touches him there. It’s a strong taste of salt, of sweat, which I’m starting to realise might just be how guys taste all over, but this is way more powerful. Combined with how soft the skin is there, like fucking _velvet,_ it just about kills my brain, and immediately I _love_ this.

I’m not quite ready to look up and see what Johnny thinks of how I’m doing, so I hold him there, licking him while he’s inside my mouth, fitting my lips around his head, hoping he likes it to start softer, like I do. I suck gently, which pulls his slit right against my tongue, and I remember I’ve got my hand there, too, so I make small, firm movements in time with my mouth and my tongue.

Johnny’s thighs clench up underneath my elbows. “Fucking _hell_ …” he groans down at me, and it’s _way_ too loud, and my eyes fly up to him in alarm, but totally turned on by the danger.

Johnny’s lips are parted, his face caught in this kind of helpless, sudden, enjoyment, and it makes me throb, so fucking _hard_ , to see I’m getting this right for him.

I come off just for a second, because I’m, like, _grinning,_ and it’s hard to do this when you’re smiling, and he just gives me this shake of his head, kinda like awe.

“Do you have to be a natural at fucking _everything,_ Bobby?”

I’ve told him a number of times I’m a fast learner. Maybe now he’ll believe me.

“So you want me keep going?”

“You _will_ keep going,” he tells me. “I need you to.”

“Well, you better keep it down,” I suggest in a murmur. “We’ll get kicked out.”

Johnny smirks. “It’d be worth it. But okay, if that’s important to you…”

I resume what I was just doing, this time watching him from where I am.

I no longer feel it’s too intense to stare at him when we’re doing stuff: I now _need_ that to happen, and it isn’t long until I have him breathing heavily again, his face showing his strain, sexy as all fuck.

His hand comes, almost tentatively, up to the back of my head, and I feel his fingers spread out there in my hair. They don’t push me down, but they go with me, and I like it; it feels like he _could_ make me, if he wanted to, if I wasn’t doing enough, so I’ll make sure I am.

There’s all these amazing shapes to feel with my tongue, it’s driving me _crazy_. I love the way I can slide around where his head ends, into the groove below. When I play my tongue underneath his dick, at the top, where the little loose skin is, Johnny gets a crazy look, like that was really good, so I keep going on that for a while.

I’m ready to try going deeper, but I know from girls that if you try to do this too deep, you end up gagging, which I don’t wanna do, so I only work my way down a little at a time, making sure I can handle it. Right away I realise my tongue’s gonna have to stay at the bottom of my mouth now, and that there’s more room if I keep it flat, so I guess you have to maybe use your lips to make the feeling good, I’m not sure.

I remember from Dutch’s cheeks, and from when I’ve had this done, that it’s the pressure you want most, although not too much, and I make sure to suck every time I come back up.

My lips are already getting tired, and my jaw, which isn’t something I’d considered, but I could force myself to do this as long as I need to, if it makes Johnny’s face look tense like that, makes him stare at me like that. There’s been a stronger taste coming for a while, a change in it, and I guess I know what that is, and fuck _me_ , that is hot.

He’s started swearing pretty quietly, loud enough for me to hear, but not much louder than that, and he’s using it like an encouragement for me, or that’s how I’m taking it, and the tension in my body coils up tight.

When his thighs are starting to move under my arms, like he’s rocking back and forth on the bench just a little, the hand on my head tightens.

“I’m close,” he tells me, and I feel a new warmth creeping up into my chest, knowing that I’ve nearly succeeded, and oh, _shit_ , we’re getting to the part I’ve hardly been able to wait for.

I’m about to see what it’s gonna be like.

Johnny’s steadying himself to talk to me, before it goes further. “When I come, you might not want to try to take it down your throat just yet. Move up, it doesn’t matter if you can’t swallow everything. I wanna come on your lips. On your tongue.”

I can barely handle the jolt of need his words send into my dick, and I wonder if I might not simply come when he does, without a single touch, because I’m feeling like I just about might be able to.

I listen to what he’s told me to do, and squeeze with my other hand on his sack, needing him to get back on track, fast, because I can’t wait for this to happen to him any longer.

Johnny groans, pushes his groin toward me, his abs clenching hard, and he tightens the hand on my head even more.

It’s all going tense under my hands, and now I start licking over the place where I know it’s all going to center on, from there down to that little bit of skin, and then hollow my cheeks for one last push at sucking him as well as I can.

He’s watching my mouth; he grinds out a moan and shudders once and it starts, it hits my tongue.

There’s _nothing_ wrong with the taste, but I already knew that, so it’s just the feeling of there being so _much_ , of my mouth being so wet and filling up, as he keeps throbbing more into me, and some of it drips down my lips, and I _ache_ for my own orgasm that doesn’t quite come, but it’s as close as a knife edge. I move my lips over and over him, watching how impossibly hot he looks as he comes into me, my tongue waiting, licking, until he’s finished, until he subsides, and then I swallow what I can, my lips covered in him still.

I expect him to fall back against the wall, but instead, he’s pulling me up off the floor, and for half a second I wonder if he’ll _kiss_ me, and I wonder if I want him to, but then he stops looking at my lips and starts to push me backwards into the cubicle, his hands on my chest.

I’m undressing as fast as I can, dropping my tracksuit as we move across the tiles down into the lower section, and reaching blindly for wherever the faucet is, and then there’s water coming down over us, too cold at first, but it starts to slowly warm up, and Johnny is forcing me against an empty part of the wall.

And fuck, my knees _hurt_ after so long kneeling on the tiles with no cushioning; they’re gonna be _bruised_ , but I’d do it again for hours, anytime Johnny asks me.

“Your turn,” Johnny says. “It’s about time you know what that feels like.”

My brain disconnects three seconds later, because he’s already down on the ground, and I’m already in his mouth.

I hope he knows this won’t take me long, because I can’t stop it now. Already it’s about to happen, because I was nearly there.

“Oh my _god_ …” I beg helplessly, because nobody has ever done this so well to me, and I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to handle how good it’s going to feel to come inside his mouth.

My hands try to find a grip on his slippery shoulders, and then I go for the back of his head instead, and the tightness he’s giving me is just too good, too strong.

 _“Yes_ …” I tell him, as warningly as I can, and then I rock into my release, deep inside that heat. My whole existence might as well just be this feeling, this flying, this blindness that dips over my mind, and it feels like it goes for ages, like the euphoria will never stop.

But it slowly does; slowly I come back, slowly I can feel Johnny’s mouth still there, less rushed, more gentle, waiting until I’m finished.

Afterwards, my knees buckle, and I slip partway down the wall, trying my best to keep myself upright by using my thighs.

Johnny gives this quiet laugh, standing, and pulling me up, with his hands at my hips, leaning me against the wall with his body, while I breathe hard.

He stays there for a moment, not long, against me, but he does smile before he moves away, leaving me to recover, while he starts his shower.

I’m staring at him, grateful mostly, until he closes his eyes and lets the water fall over his hair.


End file.
